


Batman: What's the Punchline

by WallCrawler3344



Series: Batman Feral [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Redesign, my version
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5243798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallCrawler3344/pseuds/WallCrawler3344
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Batman has been fighting crime for about a year. Every crooked cop and corrupt criminal in Gotham is afraid to say his name. But Bruce now has other things to deal with. A boy not unlike himself has just been given into his custody. The ruins of the mob are being reincarnated. A mysterious woman has warned him of a coming war. A twisted trickster has just blown into town. And to top it all off, Batman learns that everything he knows may have been a tremendous lie.</p><p>Featuring a reboot of familiar characters, Batman: What's the punchline is an attempt to bring both the gritty realism and the quirky eeriness back to the dark knight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Batman: What's the Punchline

It comes to me in flashes. Sometimes I'll remember little things. The plastic saber my father bought me. The theme song stuck in my head. The smell of popcorn. The sound of rain on tin rooftops. The sound of my mothers laugh. I remember those things, and I smile. I smile because I forgot what it was like to truly, deeply smile. From happiness, at least. But then I remember; these were the last happy moments of our lives. 

Because then I remembered the big things. Being surrounded by a group of at least seven men. The sound of gunshots clapping in my ears. The smell of blood on my hands. My mother screams. The pain of a 9 mm shell going through my thigh. I remember the big things and I cringe. I cringe not in fear for memory of the deceased. I cringe because I should have died that night. In a way, I did.

I guess, in a way, I do this as a distraction. Of what was the most traumatic moment of my life. Alfred thought it was a way to get me killed; like I was at an attempt of noble suicide. But I know why I do it. I know that if I don't do it, that this will happen to another little boy in a back alley. A little boy all but too trusting of the world. And then he'll turn around, nobody will be there to tell him it's oke.

Sirens. Gunshots. Screams. Infrared picks up a cop cruiser and a sedan with bullet holes the size of your thumb. The directional microphone picks it up just a block to my right. I unload the caltrops and fire them a block to my left. I grip the edges of my pleated cape, and leap down just in time to land in the windshield. Spiderwebs cover the ski masks of either desperate thieves or thrill seekers. One grabs a shotgun and fires. The glass kisses my face and thankfully he only barely grazes my rib. The plate catches, but it still pierces the skin.

So I grab him through the windshield and throw him into a mailbox. His friend can't see past my cape, and so runs right into the caltrops. The hot rubber tires burst and I feel sparks at the front and back of the car. I fire the grapnel and watch from a seventh story window as the car spins into an alley and the cops pull out a hostage. I decide I'm going to move before anybody tries to get up here and I grapnel again towards a lower building.

It's raining again. The clock tower in the distance is chiming out its first bell. I see a man running in fear. I run along the rooftops beside him to watch what he's doing. He runs into an alleyway. He cocks a pistol and pops a pill. He must have killed his dealer. I want to drop down and feed him his teeth. I grapple down to the alley he was in first. Sure enough, two holes in the back of his chest. He's still breathing. I take his wares and put them in an evidence bag for the police.

I find the killer again and dive bomb into his clavicle. His screams are music. I pick him up by the cracked shoulder and he cries out, tears mixing with the rain and he begins babbling. Something about the devil. Something about a prayer. Something about his own mother. I pull him up by the neck and stare at him. It's usually enough. Shock, and then intimidating. But he stays awake, putting his fingers into a cross. I don't stir. I throw his head into the pavement and I hope that I gave him a concussion.

The directional microphone picks up a strange noise. A purring. But not natural. I turn toward it, and the infrared sensors only manage to catch the shadow of someone running away. I grapnel up to their roof and chase after them. Dressed like a cat, a woman in full leather with ears and a tail. It looks like someone's caught my sense of style. I'm trained to run a mile in six and a half minutes. I suspect she's only able to run one in eight. Better than most, but not all. I tackle her to the ground. She even has a damn mask.

"My, you get to the meat of things right away, don't you?" She coos. I'm not in the mood.

"Why were you watching me?"

"And no nonsense. Yay."

"Answer me!"

"Or what? You'll hit a girl?"

"I'm not above it."

She purrs sarcastically. "I like an aggressive man."

"One more chance."

"Let me up."

She stands up as I pull her to her feet. I get a better look at her. It's like her costume was made by hand. The boots stretch all the way up to her thighs, the gloves up to her deltoids. A single zipper down the torso, but undone just a little bit, I guess to look seductive. Her ears and mask are one piece, with articulated goggles like camera lenses over them. They look like a primative version of my infrared.

"I was watching you because you're interesting. And I have something to say."

"Say it."

"That would be no fun."

"Good thing I'm not in the mood for games."

"Well I am."

I clench my fists and put up with it.

"There will be things happening within the next few months that will change your world. I hope you know how to handle them."

"Are you some sort of informant?"

"In a way."

"Who do you work for?"

She smirks, painted whiskers twitching. "Me, myself, and I."

"If you're lying..."

"Then you have nothing to worry about."

"What's your name?"

"What's yours?"

"I'm not that easy."

"And what makes you think I am."

"The way I could ride a log flume down your cleavage."

She laughs, genuinely. "I didn't take you for a funny guy."

"Your name."

She puts her hands on my chest and gets real close.

"If you are Batman..."

She circles a claw around my symbol. 

"... I am Catwoman."

She leans in and kisses me. Black lipstick stains my mouth. She saunters away, trying to swing her hips. It's working. She does a leap of faith off a building. I don't hear her land, so I assume she's oke.

I press a button on the buckle of my belt and slowly an armored Audi R18 creeps into the alley. Lucius, you have outdone yourself. I press the electronic lock and the cockpit air seals open. I step in, close the shuttle, and step on the turbine to go home.

I get to the outskirts of town. I see the out of order bridge and turn up the speed. The car leaps off of the bridge and into the cliff. I aimed for the waterfall and thankfully I hit my mark. I launch through the water and land in the cave. Alfred sees me and shuts the hydraulic gate. By the time it's closed, it'll look like the cliff never moved. I open the cockpit and undress into my pyjamas.

"A fruitful night, I hope?"

"Yes. Two muggings, an armed hostage situation in a car, and a drug related murder."

"Excellent job, sir."

"... And I met someone."

"Is that right?" He begins picking the suit off the floor and hanging it up.

"A woman, dressed like a cat. Warned me of events that would change my world."

"Rather ominous. And what are you going to do about it, sir?"

"I'll see what happens and change according to the situation."

"Very well, sir. The computer has been updated with information regarding the fall of the Falcone empire. It seems they're down for good, but I'll let you see for yourself."

"Excellent."

"Shall I fetch you something to eat?"

"Yes, and bring some gauze. I have a minor wound."

"Very well."

I fix myself and eat a club sandwich. Alfred seems pleased. At the very least, he wants me to eat. He'll ask me to sleep, but he very well knows I won't. The computer reads security footage of the night I just had. As the gate of the cave lets in sunlight, I find a frame of the Catwoman. Knelt down at the building above me, watching me work. What is she up to?


End file.
